Wretched Refuge
by accidentalauthoress
Summary: Set during Ziva's captivity in Somalia. What gets her through the panic and torture of being alone and imprisoned? Facing what seems to be imminent death, what goes through her mind - and will it involve a certain team member back home? TIVA.
1. Chapter 1

I felt like a caged animal. Captive in Somalia, the desert heat unrelenting, I paced back and forth and back again in my cell. I had failed my mission. I would most likely be killed. I would inevitably tortured. And on top of every other godforsaken thing about this place, I would never see Tony again.

I'd never admitted it until now, even to myself. Seeing as death was imminent, however, I did not give a damn who knew. I was in love with Tony DiNozzo, even if he would never know it.

Panic, again. Panic panic panic. Ever since I had arrived and been tossed into this cage, it had been one panic attack after another. Wave after wave of sweeping terror, ebbing and flowing and slowly drowning me. I hadn't felt this way since Ari's death; and yet, in the past week, the panic had been constant. There was no reprieve. I needed to run, needed to fight, needed to do something with the massive amounts of adrenaline pumping through my body. The blood echoed in my ears. My heart hammered away, almost as though it were trying to kill me before my captors had the chance. For a brief second, I hoped that it would.

I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath, the tunnel vision coming in as it did each time. Sheets of darkness lapped at my vision. My breaths were shrieking gasps. My arms, hands, and face felt like a fourth state of matter, not unlike the static on a television screen. Tingling. Tingling. Burning. Itching.

_Run run run._

The last thing I wanted was to go out with a shred less dignity than I had earned in my life.

_Mossad would be ashamed._

My breath stopped as the thought entered my mind. Guilt consumed me, but the panic stopped. I began to think about all of the people that would be disgusted with me. Gibbs. My father. The director. The entire goddamned Mossad. Tony. I should have fought harder, I should have been more observant, I shouldn't have been such a _stupid little girl!_

My breath slowed. Each breath was agony. I had no desire to keep breathing.

I reached up to touch the place where my necklace had once been. When my captors caught me, they ripped off my Star and snickered. Undoubtedly, the kidnappers were also thieves. My necklace was gone, along with my identity.

Tony.

My head fell into my clammy hands as my mind's eye supplied his image. Strong, handsome, funny… I almost felt relaxed when I was around him. I felt a pang in my chest as I remembered his cocky smirk. I wondered what he would feel when he learned of my death. Would he be as ashamed of me as all the others?

But oh, how I longed for him, though he'd never believe it. For the first time since I was a child, I wanted to be held, to be wrapped in his strong arms. I wanted to kiss him with all of the fight I had left in my body, knotting my hands in his hair and feeling the electricity shoot through every fiber of my being. I longed to feel his body pressed against mine, to hear his strong heartbeat and feel it echo through my bones. I wanted to feel the sparks. I wanted to hear his voice say my name. I wanted Tony so badly.

And yet I'd never have him.

Strangely, slowly, I began to calm. I had accepted my fate, along with my love. The thought of him was almost a sedative, and I knew it would be my last consolation.

The storm was over.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I've been incredibly ill for months now, and am just starting to recover. I just published a one-shot for Parks and Recreation, and I'm going to be updating both this and Carbon and Ash very soon. Thanks for sticking around with me!

*Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS*

* * *

_The storm was over._

I fell to the floor, exhausted. The heat was relentless even as I lay on the cool concrete floor, listening to the sounds of my ragged breath. Every few seconds, I would hear a burst of shots. Sometimes, it would be in the distance. Sometimes, it was near my door. Sometimes, it was inside my head.

Blood, anger, fear, and death surrounded me on all sides. This place, this _trap,_ held a thousand horrors. Over time, I had become one of them.

My whole body trembled and jerked with pain and exhaustion. My lips were coated in dust. It'd been almost a day since I'd had anything to drink. The desert sand leaked in through my barred window, and my throat burned. And yet, I still could not help but believe that I deserved this.

I wanted to give in to my failing body. I wanted release from the terrors of my own mind. For the first time in my life, I did not want to put up a fight. I wanted to die.

"NO!" I heard a man scream in the distance.

Another tortured prisoner, without a doubt. Everyone screamed like that at first… And then they would learn that screaming is what they wanted. These sick bastards weren't only interested in torture for information. They were in it for fun.

They had found me attractive when I was first captured, and they had their fun with me. They used to love trying to make me scream. They certainly loved beating me when I refused. But now they all looked at me with disgust. I could not blame them.

My entire body was covered in angry pink sunburn; my creamy almond-colored skin was no more. Both of my eyes were darkened and sunken in from the constant abuse. My veins stretched tight, fighting to break through my skin. My hair was so painfully matted that I had more than once considered finding a way to cut it all off – but there was none. A thin layer of blood covered most of my body now, as I had lost the energy and the will to scratch it off.

My beauty was gone, and my body was soon to give up. Breath after burning breath, I heard my lungs whistling and screaming. I wanted so badly to scream, to cry, to beg for help.

But my honor would not let me.

Alone and aching, my world faded into fuzzy darkness.

_Freedom at last._

* * *

Woo! A little bit intense, right? Don't worry, Ziva's not dead. I wouldn't have the heart to do that!


	3. Chapter 3

I still don't own NCIS.__

_Freedom at last._

Lying on the concrete, I shuddered and gasped as I began to feel my body fade away. I began to say a last prayer silently, though I had to stop and start several times to remember my place.

_Goodbye._

"ZIVA!" A scream echoed through the halls outside my door. Seconds later, a massive thud resounded throughout the room, and the door flew open. The voice was familiar, but I could not place it.

Someone dropped down on to the floor next to me and flipped me onto my back.

"No, no, no, no, no…" _Tony. _Tony had come for me. I managed to crack open my burning eyes the tiniest bit, but my attempt to speak was less successful.

"Boss, I'm going to need some help!" Tony radioed in. "Ziva, breathe, angel. Breathe. Stay right here with me."

_ I'm not your angel, _I wanted to say. But his word vomit kept coming.

"Come on, sweet cheeks, we need you."

The hot plastic of a water bottle was pressed to my lips, along with the instruction to drink. Though swallowing caused me agony, I obeyed. The water was warm, but not hot. It tasted so good, but I could not get more than a few swallows before my throat felt raw and I began to cough.

_I do not deserve to get out of here._

"We've got to get out of here. You're going to be okay, but we have to go now," Tony said. I opened my eyes as far as I could while Tony pulled me to my feet. My head spun, and every single centimeter of my body ached and burned.

"Tony-" I started to say.

"No time, sweet cheeks," he said. His face was creased with worry, and he was pouring sweat. It was the first time I had seen him out of control. Tony was not one to show his fear. Tony was not one to show any sort of weakness whatsoever.

_Perhaps it is my mind playing games._

Before I could make it a step, my knees gave out and I collapsed to the floor. My entire field of vision looked like the static on a television set. A burst of gunfire erupted outside the door as I started to fade out of consciousness.

_I love you, Tony. More than I love myself._


	4. Chapter 4

_Death would have been freedom; surviving seems like more torture._

I do not think Tony skipped a beat from when I hit the ground to his instinctual scooping of me into his arms. I was in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes, aware of little. I was told later that Tony had rushed my unconscious body out of the compound, alarmed at how little I weighed, and rushed me towards the local hospital.

I remembered little of this besides hot desert air rushing against my face, sand spraying up onto my skin… and my body being cradled in Tony's arms. The sound of his heavy breath against my ears, and the soft whispers of "stay with me, angel, please" and "keep breathing, Zi, keep breathing for me" that never seemed to cease. His words made no sense. The sweet pet names and desperation…. It wasn't Tony. And yet, there we were.

The next time I faded back into consciousness, it was days later. My body felt cooler, less wracked with thirst, and ever so slightly stronger. Most of all, I felt safe before I even opened my eyes.

The next thing I was aware of was a low hum, the sound of air rushing by, and the weight of something pressing down on me. It took me a moment, paying attention to the sounds and sensations around me, to realize that I was on a plane, immobilized under a layer of blankets. An IV was stuck into my left arm, and my right hand was captured in someone else's grip.

I fluttered my eyes open, alarmed, only to find a sweaty, grime-covered Tony sitting next to me, holding a damp cloth to my forehead. His face was creased with rampant worry, and I could see the smudges where tears had recently made their way down his face. His eyes were puffy, and it looked like he hadn't slept in days. When he saw me meet his gaze, a small smile spread its way across his face.

"Hey," Tony murmured, his voice soft, gentle, and relieved.

For a moment, I just stared. Tony took this as a cue to reach out and stroke my face, but I flinched under his touch.

"It's okay, Zi. It's just me," he tried to soothe. "You're going to be okay."

_But I do not deserve to._

Tony's face shifted to pure horror, and I realized too late that I had spoken aloud.

"Ziva, look at me," Tony commanded. I acquiesced, meeting his steady gaze with my own shaky one. "Whatever they told you, it's not true. You deserve the world."

My mouth fell agape.

"I came to avenge you, Sweet Cheeks. And when I found out you were alive… It was the miracle I never thought would be granted. I need you, Zi, I can't even tell you how much." His words were serious, but there was a spark of light and hope in his eyes that I hadn't seen in a while.

"Thank you, Tony," I managed to croak out. "I do not know what to say."

"Get some sleep, Ziva. We'll talk when you're healed. You're safe with me," Tony promised.

And for the first time in months, I felt safe. Just like that. I knew that Tony would go to the ends of the earth to protect me, and he'd already practically done so to rescue me.

For the first time in a long time, I could rest easy, knowing my partner was by my side.


End file.
